"—and so gave birth to the monster in the Labyrinth, the Minotaur? Of course. Who hasn't heard it?"
The maid looked round almost fearfully. "Do you not see, then, Master Theseus? There's the curse! Ariadne's daughter of a woman who's defied all the laws of gods and men. Who knows what evil may befall the child? So, no youth dares even look at Ariadne, no matter how great her beauty."
Theseus' jaw sagged for a moment. Then he bristled. "It's not because of my fame, then, my prowess as a lover, that she sent you to bring me here in secret?"
The maid bowed her head. But from his vantage-point, Burke could see her hidden smile—quick, minx-like. "She seeks only to escape her destiny, Master Theseus. In you, hero that you are, she sees one who might slay the Minotaur and take her away from Crete and the scorn and loneliness that so long have been her lot here."
"So!" grunted Theseus. "She'd use me, would she! Me, hero of Athens!"
His scowl grew even blacker. Then, abruptly, it faded. Sweeping the girl up bodily in his arms, he bore her to the nearest couch. "Enough of this empty talk, wench! We've wasted too much time already on your precious mistress!"
The couch groaned with their joint weight. Throwing the maid back, tilting her face up, Theseus strove to kiss her.
But now the girl drew away, struggling in obvious earnest. "No, Master Theseus, no! We dare not! Ariadne may come at any moment—"
"Let her come!" Athenian pinned maid with hands and body. "Let her see for herself who I prefer—"